


Fresh Out of the Closet

by OrcasFriend



Category: Fresh Off The Boat (TV)
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 05:52:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17441159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrcasFriend/pseuds/OrcasFriend
Summary: Since he first met Emery, Barefoot Dave has secretly had a crush on him. But secrets have a way of coming out...





	Fresh Out of the Closet

“Yo Dave,” yells Eddie, “You gonna spit a verse or what?”

I shake my head and realize I’d completely lost track of the beat. Eddie looks at me in frustration while Walter and Brian stop the bop.

“Oh, uh…sorry” I say, lamely.

“What’s up?” asks Eddie, taking a step closer and looking around to see where I had been staring.

The mall is crowded so I’m pretty sure the target of my absent-minded gawking is already lost in the shuffle of people before Eddie can spot him, and good thing too.

If Eddie knew I had been eyeballing his brother Emery, he woulda killed me.

I try to re-direct his attention, nodding in the direction of a girl I vaguely recognize from our school. “She’s bomb,” I say.

Eddie and the gang take a look.

Brian whistles to himself. “You’ve got good eyes,” he says. He glances up at me mockingly, “Her, not you.”

I laugh, feeling some of the nerves in my chest dissipating as I do. _Phew._

Eddie takes a step back to his spot in the circle and starts the beat up again. I do my best to focus on the music, but my thoughts drift back to Emery. I see the neat haircut framing his face, his toothy smile etched into my memory.

I’m scared.

Thoughts of him haunt me, taunt me. I don’t want to think of him. I shouldn’t be thinking of him. I should be thinking of the girl from the school that made Brian’s tongue practically roll out of his mouth like Wile E. Coyote. But when Brian, Eddie, and everyone else are comparing notes on girls they want to fuck, my mouth says names like Jessica and Ashley while my brain thinks names like Joshua and Christopher.

And Emery.

I dunno what it is about him. He’s just so nice! So smiley. So put together. So cute. So…everything. I shouldn’t be so scared. I mean, it’s just my feelings, right? It’s just a feeling. He’s cute. So what?

I saw _The Birdcage_ last month. Ok, I _snuck_ into Birdcage. I went to see _Primal Fear_ with everyone, but then pretended to get sick and wandered into the theater showing Birdcage. I hid my face with my jacket as I sprinted to the back row just to double make sure no one could tell it was me in the dark theater. It was the strangest feeling, watching Albert kiss Robin Williams. It felt wrong and gross but at the same time the most right thing I’d ever witnessed in my life.

I think I’m most scared what my dad will say. My mom wouldn’t care. She lets met do whatever. I don’t know.

Doesn’t matter anyway. It’s all fantasy. I’m not Nathan Lane or Robin Williams. I don’t do those things with other boys.

“Alright Eddie,” come Emery’s voice. Suddenly he’s standing right across from me, next to his brother. My stomach turns a summersault as Emery smiles at all of us, like it has ever since he first waved ‘hi’ to me as their family moved in.

“Hello everyone,” he says and waves. _So nice._ To Eddie, he says, “Mom’s going to meet us out front in five minutes. We should get moving.”

Eddie scrunches his face and clicks his tongue. “Maaaaan, already?”

Emery nods, still smiling. “Yes, already.” He looks over at me. My stomach turns two summersaults. “Would you still like a ride, Dave?”

I nod, my throat suddenly dry.

“Ok!” he says brightly before turning and heading towards the mall exit.

“Sucks that I can’t drive yet,” moans Eddie as he gruffly slumps after him.

“Not like you haven’t tried,” I snort.

“As our resident perv,” says Brian matter-of-factly, “I feel it my duty to drive first so I can try out the sex spot at Lake Apopka and report back to the rest of you.”

I fall into step after Eddie, trying not to seem too eager to catch up to Emery. My eagerness turns to jealousy when I see Emery wave over to the girl I noticed earlier and she giggles and waves back.

No longer summersaulting, my stomach ties itself into a knot.

I sigh.

Eddie looks back at me. “Dude, what’s wrong with you today? Ya playin’ yoself, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” I say, some of my angst seeping into my words. “I dunno man. It’s just, there’s someone I really like and I don’t think they care.”

Eddie perks up. “Hold up, a girl?”

The door of the mall swishes open and we’re out in the hot Orlando sun. I always love stepping outside. My bare feet go from cool to warm.

“Who is she?” asks Eddie.

“She, Dave?” asks Emery, “got a date?”

I wilt a bit under Emery’s gaze. “Uh, yeah,” I stammer.

“Was it the girl in the mall? Did you pick her up while I wasn’t looking?” Eddie asks, trying to piece together how I pulled off the heist under his nose.

“Uh, yeah,” I repeat.

“Damn!” exclaims Eddie. Emery raises his eyebrow at me. I don’t know if it’s the heat or Emery’s expression, but I’m melting.

Mrs. Huang pulls up. Saved by the carpool.

\---

A few days later my mom sends me over to the Huangs to see if we can borrow some flour. She does that a lot, when she runs out of ingredients or just plain doesn’t have them because her paycheck hasn’t cleared yet. Why do parents say they’re going to _borrow_ stuff like flour or sugar? It’s not like they’re going to give it back. It’s like when people say they wanna _borrow_ a Kleenex. I don’t want it back…

I pop over to the Huangs and knock on the door. To my surprise and delight, Emery opens the door. _Score!_ Per usual he smiles when he sees me, standing there in a striped t-shirt.

“Hello Dave!” he says, “Eddie’s not here.”

“Hi,” I say. “Mom needs some flour.”

“Oh, Ok! C’mon in, I’ll get you some.”

I step into their foyer. Their house always smells so spicy. Emery heads into the kitchen.

“Shouldn’t I ask your mom?”

“She’s out,” comes Emery’s voice from the other room. I hear cabinets open and close. “She took Eddie and Evan to pick up the dry cleaning. They won’t let her in there anymore.”

His grandma didn’t roll out to see who was at the door. His dad was at the restaurant. I realize suddenly we are alone.

I head into the kitchen.

Emery’s pouring a little flour into a Ziploc.

“How much did she need?” he inquires.

Probably a detail I should have asked her before coming over here. “Uh, she didn’t say.”

“Four cups then!” he says, carefully measuring out the portion.

He closes the bag and I feel the warmth of his fingers brush against mine as hands it to me. My hand tingles, and I drop the bag on the floor.

“Damn!” I say, “Sorry Emery.”

“It’s ok,” he says, already bustling to the pantry to grab a broom. He bends over in front of me, pushing the flour into the dustpan with the bristles of the broom. My body shudders at the view, my imagination giving me x-ray glasses for a millisecond before the moment passes.

_If only._

“Hey, can I ask you something Emery?” I say before realizing what I’m doing.

“Sure!” he says. Ever the gentleman, he straightens up and faces me.

_Shit_.

We stand there awkwardly for a few moments, him waiting for me to ask whatever I was going to ask. I keep my mouth shut, unwilling to continue my thought.

“Well ok then,” he says and goes back to his sweeping.

“Do you ever feel a little out of place?” I ask.

_SHIT._

“I’ve never felt out of place being one of only seven Asians going to East Orlando High,” responds Emery in that acerbic yet strangely endearing tone he has when he tries sarcasm on for size.

My face flushes.

“Oh yeah,” I say, “that.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Oh uh. I dunno.”

Emery finishes sweeping and pours the flour into the garbage.

“I’ve just been feeling a little…I dunno.”

He heads back into the pantry to put the broom back.

My heart races. I swear Emery can probably hear it thumping away. _Am I really doing this?_

“Gay,” I finish.

I hear the broom clatter to the floor in the pantry.

Silence. Except for the sound of my heart pounding like a jackhammer.

“Emery?” I ask.

I hear him shift in the pantry. Trepidatiously, I take a few steps in his direction. He finally emerges. He isn’t smiling. This is the first time I have seen him without a smile on.

_Oh no. I’ve said waaaaay too much._

“What do you mean _gay_?” asks Emery quietly.

I try to play it off like a joke. “You know, like…happy or whatever.” I laugh awkwardly.

He raises his eyebrow again. Ok, it’s definitely not the heat, because the kitchen here has AC and I’m still melting.

His eyes dart around now. _He’s looking for a way out._

“I’ll leave now,” I say, quickly turning and making for the door, my face red as a cherry.

I feel his hand grasp my arm as I make to leave. Emery is shorter than me, but a bit stronger. He’s more athletic than I, but he’s not actually holding me that hard. I stop anyway. We stand there for a few more awkward moments, his hand on my arm, me not having the courage to turn and face him.

Emery breaks the silence.

“I…I had my suspicions,” he admits.

I start to get angry. Why is he holding me hostage here?

“Yeah, well, so what?” I say, my temper starting to flare as embarrassment floods through me. “Just don’t fucking tell anyone,” I continue, pulling my arm away from him and stepping out of the kitchen.

“Dave,” he says. His tone stops me in my tracks. In an instant, I recognize the tone. It’s the same tone my own voice has when I’ve tried to talk myself out of my feelings. Somehow my heart races even faster now. I turn around, my lanky frame filling the doorway.

“I won’t tell anyone,” says Emery. “I, umm…” He takes a step closer to me. “I promise I won’t.”

Don’t ask me why, or how, but next thing I know I’ve closed the space between me and Emery and my arms are around him. I’m taller than him, so I crane my neck down and find my face right above his. I feel his breath against my lips.

I feel his breath inside my mouth. And then my mouth is on his. My body feels electric, the same dirty-but-right feeling I got watching Birdcage, but this feels more right than dirty and about a million times better.

He leans back against the kitchen table and I move with him. I feel his tongue pressing against my teeth and I open my mouth more to let it in. He heaves heavily through his nose, his hand travels up my back. I feel heat in my groin and the feel of the bulge through Emery’s jeans tells me he’s feeling the same thing. I know what I must do.

“Emery,” I say.

“Yes,” he replies.

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

He smiles. That smile. His mouth locks back with mine and our hands are busy finding the borders of each others’ shirts, lifting them up and exposing pale skin. HisI feel his hands moving up and down my back, feeling every inch of my skin. My hands slip under his arms and up his back to grip his shoulders, holding him against me. I feel the warmth of his body against my bare chest, feel the pace of his heart matching mine.

I feel Emery’s fingers fumble with the button of my pants. I reach down and help him undo mine before unzipping his own jeans and letting them fall to the floor.

I feel him even more now, the only thing separating our rigid members being the thin fabric of our underwear. I look down. He’s wearing tighty-whities. Of course he is. I clearly see his outline bulging against his underwear. I push my hips against his, the heat of our hard members sending a jolt of lightning through my body. I rub my waist against his, feeling him through his tighty-whities.

Emery takes a sharp breath in as I rub against him, then lets it out. The air tickles my neck.

“You like that?” I ask.

He nods. His eyes close and his head rolls back. His face isn’t his usual smile, but it certainly isn’t a frown…it’s something new. His mouth hangs open slightly, his lips pulled back from his distinctive teeth. He breathes slowly, taking in the sensation.

I reach out and feel the soft skin of his chest. My fingers seem to send a chill through Emery and he lets out another soft moan. I let my hand travel down his chest, down his belly, to his bulge. It radiates warmth into my palm as I wrap my fingers around it and gently rub it through the fabric. Emery pushes himself deeper into my hand, eager for me to feel him. I’m so caught up in the feeling of his warmth I don’t notice his own hand reaching into the flap in my boxers until the sudden sense of his fingers pleasuring my bare cock washes over me.

It’s my turn to moan.

“Oh fuck,” I say before catching myself and continuing, “Oh sorry, I forget you don’t really swear.”

He laughs, still rubbing me, “Just because I don’t doesn’t mean you can’t.”

I let out a breath as his fingers rub the head of my dick, “good, because that feels fan-fucking-tastic right there.” I barely manage to finish the sentence before it devolves into another moan. He smiles, clearly proud of the pleasure he’s bringing me. I smile back, feeling his cock jump under my fingers.

Those same fingers find the waistband of his briefs. His dick practically pops out of them as I peel them down away from his rigid shaft, like a gopher bursting from the ground. It springs out completely hard and I feel its length. His body, soft and smooth, seems built around the perfection of his penis. A patch of short black curly hair guards its base as it stands at complete attention.

Emery pulls my boxers down, revealing the end of the treasure trail running down from my belly button.

We just stare at each other for a few moments, feasting our eyes on each others’ naked bodies. I’ve seen boys naked before, of course, in the locker room at school and everything. But this is different. At school, sneaking a peak at a guy feels like a thrilling, dirty secret. Here it feels like a celebration only Emery and I are invited to.

I can see Emery’s athletic career is paying off as his silky skin pulls tight against the slight muscles of his abdomen. He takes a step closer to me, leaving the kitchen table behind, and reaches his mouth up to kiss me again. I feel his cock pressing, almost pushing, against my own as he does.

As I return the kiss, I reach down and resume gently rubbing him. My fingers brush against my own cock and send another jolt through my body, so I expand my grip and hold both Emery and myself in my hand.

I rub down toward the base of his shaft, which is also the tip of my own dick, before running my hand back up his and to the base of mine.

Emery rests his head against my chest. I feel his breathing against my nipples. He starts pumping his waist so that not only am I rubbing his cock but also he’s thrusting it up and down the length of mine. It feels good, so I start pumping my own hips so that he and I are both plunging in and out of my hand, our cocks rubbing not only against the skin of my palm, slippery now with drips of pre from both of us, but against each others’ slick shafts.

He moans, picking up the speed of his pumping. I can tell he’s enjoying it.

“Yes,” he says quietly, “Oh Dave….”

He moves even faster now, the heat generated by his motions almost overpowering our natural lubricant. I feel him breathing more sharply, and I know he is moving towards his climax.

I feel my own orgasm starting to build, the tension I’ve felt hundreds of times before during my solo adventures in the shower or in my bed, but somehow magnified.

Emery isn’t speaking anymore, more just whimpering as he feels his own excitement grow. The tension in me has spread now out from the base of my shaft to the tip, but back up my body into my balls and stomach.

“Fuck,” I whisper. I rest my other hand on Emery’s back, feeling his soft skin. I’m breathing fast now, too, almost sweating.

He whimpers again, then starts saying my name again, “Dave…oh Dave…OH!” with the last moan, he unleashes into my hand, his forehead on my chest seems to try to burrow deeper, as though it wants to be part of me. He spills all over my fingers, lubricating them even more and sending me over the edge.

“Fuck!” I cry as the tension inside me reaches its breaking point, flowing down through me before exploding out of my cock. My head snaps back as I cum, feeling Emery’s cock hard and hot against mine as I do. The side of my dick against his feels especially good, so I tighten my grip around both of us with my hand, causing Emery to gasp and shoot a second spurt out. _Oh, he really liked that bit_ I note in my pleasure-soaked brain.

Emery slows his pumping, his breathing steadying. My own frantic heartbeat begins returning to normal levels. Still looking down, I feel more than hear him say, “Wow.” I chuckle, an act that causes Emery’s head to bounce against my chest. He shakes his head to clear it and looks up at me. Even spent by an orgasm, that smile makes me melt.

“Wow is right,” I say. I look down at my hand, soaked with both of our cum now dripping onto his kitchen floor. “Oooh,” I continue, “I think we’ve got some cleaning up to do before your mom comes home.”

Suddenly wide-eyed with concern, Emery runs to the window as though fearing his mom might be walking up to the door that very second. I hadn’t seen him from this angle before.

His ass looks amazing. My cock twitches despite having just cum seconds before.

I hear a sigh of relief and know we’re in the clear, so I head to the sink to wash my hands. I do my best to wipe my cock clean with a paper towel. I’ll take a shower once I get home.

Emery and I spend a few minutes cleaning the puddles off the floor in relative silence. The sensation of my orgasm still holds me strong, but it is matched now by another sensation: confusion. _What does this mean? What do we do now?_ I take Emery’s silence to mean he’s wondering the same thing. Once we’re both dressed, he walks me to the door.

I expect him to open it and let me out, but he stands there, hand on the door, as though caught in time.

“Yeah,” I say, searching for a way to verbalize what I’m thinking and feeling.

“Mhmmm,” he says, an unusually short and cavemanish answer for the usually pithy Emery.

I turns around, resting his back against the door. He smiles up at me.

“I liked that,” he says.

I return the smile. “So did I.”

His back still to the door, he pulls it open.

_Okay,_ I think, _that’s it?_

“Thanks,” I say, not knowing what else to say, before heading out the door.

He closes the door behind him, not quickly like he’s mad or anything, and not slowly like he’s relishing the moment between us. Just a normal door closing, like Emery always does. _Okay…_

I head back next door to my place, my brain filled with questions and wonderings.

“No flour?” says my mom as I get inside.

_Shit_.

\----

**Hope you enjoyed this ship. Let me know if you want more. I'm happy to continue if there's interest.**


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